I Hate This
by jennytork
Summary: John Winchester, meet wall. And stairs. And pain. (Written for "broken bones" square on H/C Bingo card.)


I hate this.

I had forgotten how badly broken bones hurt – I haven't had one in over 20 years.

I got thrown through a wall – not into a wall, _through_ a wall – and down a flight of stairs. Lost my gun and my bearings. All I knew for a long few minutes was white-hot pain.

There was a flurry of noise and I thought that the creature was coming back. I groped for my gun and there was nothing but floor. I tried to move, to widen my search radius, and pain stopped me cold.

I heard someone screaming like their world was coming to an end. Two voices, actually. My throat started to burn and I realised one of them was me.

The pain receded enough for me to realise that I had hands over my shoulders and I was being moved. I couldn't tell right off who it was and growled, lashing out with my fists and trying to twist away from the hands. It was the creature -

"Whoa, whoa! Dad! Dad, stop, it's me!"

-It was Sammy!

"...told you to stay with your brother..."

"Yeah, well, right now I'm glad I didn't! Dean sent me to make sure you were okay and I find you at the bottom of the stairs with a leg that looks like a pretzel-"

"Sammy, the -"

"It's dead, Dad."

"Dead?"

"C'mon, I'll show you."

He sounded so proud, and – ridiculously – that was the moment I realised that the broken leg was the least of my troubles. "You'll have to tell me."

He froze. "Tell..."

"Sammy, I can't see."

There was a very long pause, then I heard my baby boy take a deep breath. "Okay," he whispered. Then a little louder, he said, "Okay. The vessel was impaled. Looks like he threw you and lost his balance. You went through the wood bannister and took part of it with you. The iron base was exposed and now it's through the vessel's heart."

"Vessel? Why are you calling it a-"

"Dad, it was a hybrid. A human possessed by a spirit with decidedly poltergeist characteristics."

I closed my eyes. "Well damn."

"C'mon, Dad. Let's get you out of here."

He moved me, and I felt agony stab through me.

And then I knew no more.

 _SPN SPN SPN_

The next thing I knew, I was coming to in a room that smelled less dusty and felt decidedly warmer. "...what..." Reaching up, I found a washcloth over my eyes. I slid it off and felt tension I hadn't fully been aware was there leave my shoulders.

I could see. Everything was blurry, but I could see light and movement.

"Dad?" I turned my head and smiled. I tried to sit up and heard myself groan as the pain in my leg made itself known.

Dean moved closer, his cool hand cupping my cheek. "Dad, don't move. The doctor's coming and you'll be okay."

"Dean..." But it was no use. He'd moved and all I could see was the back of his head. I swore softly, leaning back against the pillows and watching helplessly as my newly-deafened son moved across the room and to the doorway, calling for his brother.

Dean's body blocked the door. I couldn't see Sammy, but I knew their hands were moving. I had taught Dean how to sign when he was traumatised into muteness after... after we lost his mother. He had taught Sammy as they grew up.

I had never dreamed they would be needing that skill seventeen years later.

I saw Dean nod and then he turned back to me. His eyes met mine and his face lit as I watched him move around the room. "Sammy!" he called back. "He's trackin'! He can see me!"

Sammy appeared in the doorway. His face lit and he ran back out.

Voices sounded a few seconds later, and he came into the room with a strange man behind him. "Doctor Murphy, this is John Warner. He's our dad."

"Tell me again what happened?" the doctor said as he came over and opened his bag at my feet.

Sammy swiftly fed me the story with his fingers and I groaned, realising that he'd told the doctor a version of the actual events. "I was at the McDowell house and I fell down the stairs."

"Dad's a reporter," Sammy put in quickly. "He tries to disprove local urban legends."

Murphy chuckled. "Looks to me like this one reached out and bit you in the persqueeter."

Sammy translated for Dean, and I heard him start chuckling at the funny word.

"Right, then," Murphy said. "Let's see about that leg."

He touched it and my world dissolved into pain.

I hate this.

END


End file.
